


Synchronicity

by Frayach



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frayach/pseuds/Frayach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry & Seamus and Draco & Blaise were the two pairs of Olympic synchronized divers who would compete for Britain, but then Seamus and Blaise ate some bad prawns . . .  Can Harry and Draco do synchronized <i>anything</i>, let alone diving?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to God because men's synchronized diving makes me believe in You.
> 
>  
> 
> [LJ version](http://frayach.livejournal.com/94795.html)

Balanced on the edge, with nothing but their toes for gravity to hold on to, the two young men stand with their backs to the spectators. Hermione watches, her heart in her throat. Can they do it? After all, synchronicity is everything. The separate dives can be perfect in every way, and they could still come in last. The only thing that matters is that their every step, every twist, every _breath_ happen at exactly the same time.

Ron leans over and whispers in her ear. “It’s too bad that Seamus and Zabini ate those dodgy prawns. Harry and Malfoy have never managed a synchronized _anything_ , let alone a complex dive they’ve only practiced as partners for one afternoon.”

Unable to tear her eyes away from the platform, Hermione responds with a distracted nod. All of her attention is absorbed by the two figures, identical in height and build and skin tone. Looking at their backs, the only way to distinguish them is the color of their hair. Pale blond and jet black. Like mirror images of one another.

“Well, I will say this,” Ron says in-between bites of egg roll, “they _look_ better suited for one another than either of them look with their real partners. I mean, Seamus is nearly a foot shorter than Harry and broader across the shoulders than Harry will ever be, no matter how many push-ups he does. And standing beside Zabini always makes Malfoy look like some kind of weird alien mushroom from outer space.”

Hermione smiles, but refrains from pointing out the fact that Ron has clearly put in far more thought on the matter than she has. She suspects her observation would not be appreciated.

“Next up, we have Britain’s Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. We’ve been told by their coach that they’ve never dived together competitively before this moment. It will be interesting to see if they can pull this off . . .”

Hermione disguises her nervous giggle at the announcer’s choice of terminology as a cough, and Ron pats her solicitously on the back. If this were twenty-four hours ago, she would share the announcer’s scepticism and be blissfully unaware of the double entendre as well. But last night contained more revelations than just the previously unknown contents of Seamus’s and Blaise’s stomachs as they’d hurtled in a taxi back to their hotel. It also contained the revelation that perhaps Harry and Draco were less averse to sharing a room than their vocal protests to the contrary had suggested. Because once it’d been decided (by the coach, no less) that the prawn afflicted boys should room with each other rather than keep their two healthy teammates awake, Hermione had decided it best to check on them before turning in. Surprised to find the door unlocked and alarmed by the loud banging she’d heard on the other side, Hermione had tiptoed into their room with wand drawn and a _Petrificus Totalus_ on her tongue only to discover the two bitter rivals locked in a decidedly sweet embrace. 

Up on the platform, the young men turn to each other and words pass between them that no one else can hear. Hermione feels herself grinning as they smile gleefully at each other like two Seekers who’ve grabbed for the Snitch at the exact same moment and forfeited the match in a tie. Then suddenly above the noise of the crowd, Hermione hears Draco’s posh, clipped, “Ready? One, two, three . . .” and suddenly both bodies are in motion as arms rise and then spread wide like two lilies opening in the sun. Muscle ripples beneath taut skin, and then suddenly gravity loses all power over them for one long breath-stopping moment as their feet leave the platform at exactly the same instant . . .

It is the same as the previous night, but instead of being suspended, twisting their sleek, dolphin-strong bodies in mid-air, they’d been tangled in damp sheets. And instead of plunging into a pool of water, they’d been plunging into each other. Tongues diving into open mouths and needy thrusts where they were joined even more intimately beneath the sheet, which had slipped down and caught on the swell of Harry’s arse. She hadn’t watched for long, but it’d been enough to note the way they moved against each other as though intuiting every gasp, every shudder, every breathy urgent murmur. _There._ _Now._ _Please._ _. . . you, so much . . . so much._

For the space of a breath, the two of them are flying without brooms, falling without wings, their bodies whip-crack quick and flexible. Beautiful, even in the unforgiving florescent lights. Later, after they’ve showered and congratulated the other teams and accepted their medals, she’ll ask them if they’d really done it without magic, but for now she lets herself believe that it’s true. Bodies slide into the water like swords into their sheathes, and then a dark head and a fair one are surfacing again. Their giddy boyish laughter is infectious, and the crowd is on its feet applauding wildly as the judges cast their votes.

They are the center of attention. Both of them, equally. Radiant and youthful and alive. No longer rivals, but partners. Hermione smiles and claps harder as she glimpses for an instant fingers clasp and squeeze beneath the water even though the two faces are turned in opposite directions as they wave to the audience with their free hands. She marvels again at their perfect synchronicity, the way they both seem to know to reach for the other in the same instant. It’s rather a shame, she thinks, smiling to herself, that those fifteen seconds in the air are all the judges will ever see.

“Well, it looks like Seamus will be getting a new partner,” Ron says, rubbing his greasy palms on his jeans before taking Hermione’s hand. They stand and make their way down to the pool’s edge where the coach is weeping tears of disbelieving joy as he clutches Harry and Draco in ecstatic hugs.

“And Blaise, too, I suspect,” she says, deciding, at least for now, not to mention that she has reason to believe that there is nothing new about the soon-to-be-announced Potter/Malfoy partnership. The only thing that’ll be new about it will be the diving.


End file.
